


Going in Circles

by rikujo (helphiddlestoned)



Series: 25 Days of Fic [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Arthur needs to be more honest with himself about many things, Christmas, Day 9: Ice-Skating, Flirting, M/M, Rated for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helphiddlestoned/pseuds/rikujo
Summary: Arthur is cold and grumpy and his company is too damn European.





	Going in Circles

**Author's Note:**

> Day 9! I've been looking forward to this one, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

“I can ice-skate perfectly fine, thank you very much.” How Arthur had ended up on the edge of one of London’s temporary Christmas ice-rinks having to defend his ice-skating skills to Francis and Antonio was something of a mystery. The doubtful look Antonio and Francis exchanged was hardly subtle though. “I’m also not _blind_.” Arthur added through gritted teeth.

“Mattieu seemed to think you might be out of practise the last time you skated with him, is all.” Francis reported, adjusting his scarf. “You did tell me you hadn’t been in a while when I suggested it.”

That wasn’t wrong. Ice-skating was rather like riding a bike, though; once you got a feel for it, muscle memory did the rest.

“I’m hardly about to forget something I’ve done for centuries.” Arthur muttered, quieter because of the crowd waiting to go onto the ice with them. A crackling voice announced their slot on the speakers and everyone shifted forward towards the gates as one.

“Well I guess we’ll find out.” Antonio said cheerfully.

He was first on the ice, quite casual about it for someone so horrified by the cold, but then Arthur supposed he’d always had good balance. He followed after, Francis bringing up the rear, and finding his footing was as easy as predicted. One slow glide at the beginning and he settled into a rhythm.

It was almost enjoyable, taking the corners smoothly, even tucking his hands in his pockets for some of the time, but on their third go round the rink a teenage boy went skidding past them, crashing into his shoulder.

He frowned after him but then one of his skates caught on a bump in the ice, jolting, and his easy balance was thrown decidedly off. His first instinct made him tense, trying to correct the shift, but that turned out to be his fatal mistake. One of his blades sliced sideways, giving up it’s grip.

Both skates slid from under him.

He managed one scrabbling second as he tried to keep himself upright but it only ended up with him flailing, reducing his stability even further, and the world tipped backwards.

“Shit!”

He landed smack on his arse. Icy water rushed onto his clothes, his jeans drawing it in like a sponge, and, where he’d planted his hands down against the ice in an attempt to protect himself, his gloves were soaked through too. He sighed heavily.

Someone snorted above him and he lifted his head with a glare to find both of them grinning at him, Antonio well on his way to laughter and Francis not looking far behind.

“You can skate perfectly fine, right?” Antonio teased, offering him an irritatingly bright smile.

“I hate you both.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Francis protested.

“Your face did. One of you imbeciles help me up.” They each ended up offering a hand, which was just as well because the action of pulling him upwards almost unbalanced them all. Arthur wrinkled his nose at the chill seeping down his legs. “This is thoroughly unpleasant.”

“You never know, maybe it’ll dry.” Antonio suggested optimistically. “There’s a breeze.”

There was a breeze. An incredibly _cold_ one, it being December.

Francis shook his head. “That wind will give you hypothermia before it dries you out.”

Privately, Arthur agreed with him for once.

He tried to carry on all the same though, drifting after them both as they set off again. Any good cheer he’d had for the exercise was gone, though, so after one more grumpy lap of the rink he turned to the others. “I’m bloody freezing, I’m going to wait outside.”

“Hm, are you sure?” Francis asked, but Arthur nodded immediately.

“I think there’s a stand selling tea. I’ll wait by the barriers.” Then he angled his skates out of the stream of people, heading for one of the exits.

They didn’t sell tea, though, he discovered when he’d handed his skates back in and got warm shoes back on his feet. They sold hot chocolate—suspiciously thin looking hot chocolate too, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was hot, that would have to be enough.

He paid his money and took the polystyrene cup to lean against the wooden barriers of the rink, blowing steam from it as he picked out Antonio and Francis amid the crowd.

Francis was attempting to pull Antonio through some fancy little move. They looked perfectly ridiculous. It didn’t work, unsurprisingly, but at least Francis managed to catch Antonio as he fell forward, and Arthur hid a small smile in his cup as Antonio’s laughter rang out across the rink.

He took a sip of the hot chocolate and confirmed his worst fear. It was warming, but bland. They’d likely used water instead of milk, half killing the rich flavour. Thank god Léa wasn’t with them. The Belgian would probably cry. He drank a decent amount down anyway, for the heat more than anything else, until there was a clatter beside him. He looked round to find Antonio leant against the barrier, offering him a smile.

“Warmer now?” he asked.

Arthur scoffed. “Marginally. Though they use water to make their hot chocolate.” he went on with a small frown, making Antonio chuckle.

“How will you live?” he joked.

“It’s thoroughly disappointing.”

“Then you won’t mind me stealing some.” Antonio countered, inching a little further along so that they were opposite one another and reaching out a hand.

Lacking the energy to care or protest, Arthur let him take it, looking away to where Francis was gliding across the ice with ease, weaving his way in and out of people like he was born to do it. Stupidly graceful bastard. Francis noticed him looking, his smile widening, and lifted a hand to wave a few fingers in Arthur’s direction. Arthur looked away.

He found Antonio pouting, staring into the cup despondently, and sighed.

“I warned you.”

“I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s cheaper for them than using milk. They’re here to make money. Besides, you just wanted something warm, didn’t you? You can’t complain about that.”

Both their eyes drifted back to Francis as the conversation lulled. He was now going backwards, and as they watched he did some little turn to face forward again, shifting smoothly back into the movement to keep going. Antonio hummed lightly.

“I didn’t think he’d be so good. He used to have the worst balance of the three of us.”

Arthur eyebrows twitched together. “Yes, well let’s put us on a ship and see which of us falls over first.”

Antonio laughed brightly. “I don’t know, can we count that? Half the time you used to push Francis _off_ them—you did that a lot actually.” he added, frowning mildly.

“He still had worse balance.” Arthur argued, shaking his head. “It’s been years since I fell on ice. The universe seems to insist on embarrassing me only when you lot are around to watch it.”

“Aw, do you want to impress us instead?”

Expression carefully blank, Arthur scoffed. “That would hardly be difficult, given that you set the bar terribly low, but no. That’s more the frog’s style.”

Antonio glanced back at Francis with a soft chuckle. “I guess he is showing off a bit.”

“Isn’t he always?”

Frustratingly Arthur knew Francis wasn’t showing off nearly as much as he _could_ have been, though. He was just annoyingly good at it, not making a single misstep as he glided across the ice. His movements were starkly elegant compared to those around him, making him stand out among the crowd, and it made it too easy to watch him. With Francis facing away from him and unable to notice, Arthur’s eyes traced over him from head to toe, lingering for a second too long.

“It kind of seems like it’s working, to be fair.” Antonio said, raising an eyebrow at him, a smile playing around his lips as he dragged Arthur’s focus back to the conversation.

Arthur raised one right back. “Is it? I had no idea you were so easily affected.”

Antonio only grinned. “Come on, I can admit it when I want someone. You’re the one who’s always dancing around this stuff.”

“Funny, I thought you were the dancer—but I’m afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree.” he continued, before Antonio could accuse him of changing the subject. “There’s nothing worth talking about here.”

“So you don’t want Francis?”

Holding back a sigh, he turned to properly meet Antonio’s eyes.

“Why so curious?” he asked softly. “I haven’t known you to be this interested in my love life in years.”

Antonio straightened just a touch, shoulder’s settling almost defensively, but his expression never changed. “That’s a nice way of avoiding the question.”

“So is that.” Arthur retorted, a tiny smirk lighting his lips as he held Antonio’s eyes.

“So is what?”

They both almost jumped as Francis appeared beside them, a swish of skates across ice.

“Nothing.” they chorused instantly, and Arthur pushed down a groan the second the instinctive response was out of his mouth. Francis blinked back at them before a soft laugh left his lips.

“Goodness, that couldn’t have been less subtle if you’d tried – and here I used to think you were a good liar, Arthur. I presume I was the topic of conversation?” he went on, looking entirely unperturbed about it. “What is so interesting about me today?”

“How tragic your balance used to be.” Arthur drawled. “It’s remarkable you didn’t end up flat on your face doing all those twirls.”

The words seemed to roll straight off Francis’s back, however, and he even smiled.

“Nice try, Arthur, but you have never and will never be embarrassed about insulting me.” He turned to Antonio. “So, what _pleasant_ aspect were you discussing?”

Mercifully, Antonio’s reply wasn’t incriminating. “You’re skating skills. You’re balance has improved so you’ve got really good. Arthur’s jealous.”

Arthur tensed, eyes narrowing at the last edition.

“I did _not_ say I was jealous. If anyone’s bloody jealous of anything it’s you with—” He cut off, jaw clenching irritably, as he realised he couldn’t finish his sentence without revealing what they’d _actually_ been saying. Antonio smiled sweetly back at him. “Oh piss off.” he muttered.

“How sweet, mon cher. I will have to try and help improve your skills at some point, no?” Francis cooed, Cheshire cat smile in place when Arthur chanced a glance.

Arthur shook his head, inhaling and letting it out slowly.

“I’d like to leave now.” he said crisply.

“Very well, the session is almost up anyway.” Francis agreed, still looking too pleased. “I’m sure you’ll be less grumpy if we find you some tea.”

They both pushed away from the barrier a little, Francis turning to skate towards the gate, but Arthur snatched at the sleeve of Antonio’s coat before he could slip away.

“I will get you back for that jealousy comment.” he promised darkly before releasing his cuff.

“You’re not grateful that I lied about you staring at his ass?” Antonio asked tauntingly, clearly unruffled. “Which I’m not jealous of, by the way.” he denied, a grin flickering onto his lips. “Why would I be? Mine’s better.” he finished with a wink.

Arthur rolled his eyes as hard as he physically could, but it only made Antonio laugh.

_Europeans_ , he thought bitterly.

One day they were going to be the _death_ of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur is ridiculous and needs to remember that he is also part of europe, lol.  
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! You can also come and bother me at anglaisaph on tumblr ❤


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